


We Both Go Down Together

by eos_3



Category: Tiger & Bunny
Genre: F/M, Hair-pulling, Hatesex, Humiliation, Rough Sex, Sex While Standing, Shameless Smut, tiger&bunny kinkmeme fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-07
Updated: 2011-06-07
Packaged: 2018-03-07 10:09:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3170954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eos_3/pseuds/eos_3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They don't like each other much, but they both have an irrepressible desire that won't be worked out any other way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Both Go Down Together

**Author's Note:**

> For the Tiger and Bunny Kinkmeme. Prompt: Barnaby/Karina - Hatesex. Bitching at each other, hair pulling, fighting over Kotetsu. Getting it all out of their system. Bonus points for Kotetsu walking in on them and totally misreading the situation.

Barnaby presses his knuckles against his mouth as he watches Kotetsu's retreating back, his partner leaving the weight-training room for the night. Off to see his kid he'd said, in that endearing-yet-annoying way of his. One more day of things Barnaby wanted to say to him and couldn't, another evening with nothing to keep him company but ghosts and sweaty workout benches. The others are long gone and this place is cloying and static and he loathes every hideous inch of it.

A lingering anxiety clings to him like a wet shirt; the better he gets to know Kotetsu, the more he wants to bridge the distance between them. He doesn't know what's worse, that he's fallen for a man so reckless with his own life, enough so that Barnaby is terrified of being trailed by another ghost, or that Kotetsu is so completely oblivious of the depth of his caring.

His shoulders stiffen and he sits up sharply, as he detects a presence behind him - hearing the scuff of a rubber sole against the industrial grade impact-absorbing carpet. Blue Rose looks tired in her drab workout clothes, her hair is limp and sweat-soaked, but her keen eyes have a curious gleam.

“You're a sad sight, Bunny,” she says, tugging at the towel draped over her shoulder. “Do you miss him so much already?”

She's so dead-on he feels a surge of embarrassment, blood rushing to his face. “I have no idea what you're talking about - and please don't call me that,” he snaps, pushing his glasses up. Damn Kotetsu and his stupid nickname.

She crosses her arms and her full, rosy pout draws into a petulant frown. “Too bad. I was hoping Tiger would still be here when I was done. He gives the most amazing shoulder massages.”

“What?” It sounds like the sort of indulgent favor Kotetsu would offer to anyone, even a selfish little ice princess like Blue Rose.

“Oh he's never rubbed your shoulders? I guess not, you always look like you just ate a sour pickle around him,” she sniped.

“I beg your pardon?” Barnaby realizes he's just stood up in indignation, and now he's towering over her, brows drawn together. He tries to understand why she is bothering to try and bait him, why his heart has become a hard angry knot. Looking at her out of uniform, so different from the sleek confection that her company has tried to mold her into, it hits him like an insufferable echo - he's not the only one with strong feelings for Kotetsu.

She turns her head away. “I'm sorry, I said something careless-”

He shrugs. “It must be nice to have someone dote on you like that. I've seen him pat you on the head just the way he does with Dragon Kid. You must remind him of his daughter.” The words come out of nowhere, perhaps from that dark place in his heart that doesn't try to examine or understand too much about other people, lest he lose his zeal for finding his parents' murderer.

Blue Rose's eyes widen, flummoxed, and her body jerks a like he's stuck a knife between her ribs. For a moment he feels a bit sorry for her, as he has a sense that she has about as good a chance with Tiger as he does – close to none.

She recovers quickly. Her elegant long-fingered hand reaches up to his shoulder, and he lets her catch a strand of his hair. Blue Rose strokes it, pulls it straight and lets it bounce back in place, like she's trying to draw more of a reaction from him. She draws closer - too close. He gasps when her firm breasts brush his abdomen, as she searches his face and runs her hands over his chest.

“Do you really think I look like a little girl, Bunny?” she says in a dangerous almost-whisper, her skin flushed, eyes lively and nothing like ice.

She doesn't change her proximity, and he puts his hands on her shoulders to push her away before she can detect that his body has started to respond to her touch, her sultry voice. He has an image in his mind of her bent over one of the hard workout benches, as he fucks her until she cries out his real name. No, not like a little girl at all.

“You don't want to know what I think you look like,” Barnaby replies.

It takes him a moment to register that he hasn't actually pushed her from him as he intended. His hands move as if of their own accord, sliding up the smooth column of her slim neck instead, and he cups her chin. Of course she's beautiful. Her greatest flaw is that her callow mind doesn't quite match up to the ice goddess she portrays for her commercial sponsors. He speculates that she might think similar things of him.

“That doesn't sound very nice,” Blue Rose says, but doesn't jerk away from him like he expects; her amber eyes speak of amusement as much as they do of distaste.

“Honesty seldom is.” He leans down to press his lips against hers meaning it as a goodbye, a flippant, slightly cruel gesture. She doesn't let him get away with it, catching his lower lip in her teeth. Though she doesn't break the skin, he cries out and she lets him scrape free.

“That hurt, you bitch,” he growls. She smirks at him and puts her arms around his neck.

“Want me to put some ice on it?” Her eyes shimmer blue for a moment and her lips are cold and soft as new snow as she presses them against his stinging flesh. She tastes like she smells, tangy like salt and sweat and ice-water.

Soon, her lips are warm again, open to him and bruised by his teeth, he's kissing her with abandon; she tugs off his glasses and drops them unceremoniously on the ground behind her. Barnaby's temper flares at this and he pushes her back against the wall of the workout station. He wonders for a moment why she's letting him do it, why she's kissed him back, why he's letting it go on this long, though the answer is probably simple enough.

Hands wound tight in his hair, Blue Rose smiles at him haughty and ruthless, daring him. She's hiding hundreds of secrets behind those eyes and he's privy to none. So unlike the open, overbearing affection he's started to get used to from Kotetsu. He knows he's thinking too much; this doesn't mean anything.

“I really don't like you at all,” she says, her eyes big and dark; her breath is as fast as his, almost panting. "I can't believe I'm kissing you."

“You certainly act as if you want me.”

“I can pretend you're someone else if I close my eyes,” she says, her long lashes fluttering closed. "Just pretend."

He gives an amused chuckle, then Blue Rose slides her hand down to brush against his hard cock, the length of it straining against his shorts. He gasps, and wishes for a moment he could lose himself in a similar fantasy, but her body is too different, too soft and small and feminine; she doesn't smell right. But she's there and warm and as horny as he is.

“Or I suppose I could just leave you like this. I don't owe you any favors,” she says.

“I never said you did,” he growls and grits his teeth, biting back a moan as she strokes him harder through the material. It would be good to get this out of his system, and hopefully he'd never feel like he needed to have her again. “But you're still as hard up for a fuck as I am.”

“I doubt you could even get me off,” she says, her breath hissing through her teeth as he wraps his hand in her hair and forces her head back. He tugs her shorts down, and once they've puddled at her feet, Blue Rose steps out of them. Barnaby lifts her up, hands gripping her thighs and she wraps her long legs around his waist. The polite part of him is tempted to work her clit, but she's already wet enough to soak his shirt - and honestly he doesn't care if she comes or not. He doesn't owe her anything either.

Barnaby would never admit to her that he's never done this standing up, nor in such an open, bright place; perhaps that's what drives part of his excitement. This won't last very long in any case.

Reckless and unrestrained, he drives himself into her hot, tight core, hard against the wall, until she's trembling and clinging to him. Her eyes are closed like she's promised they would be, her lips parted, face flushed and wanton. He can feel her heart racing against his, and he's matching her panting breaths. Finally, Blue Rose throws her head back and cries out, only to press her face into his hair, stifling the remainder of her release.

Barnaby swears he hears her gasp his name, and loses himself completely moments later. He bites down on her shoulder, before a harsh grunt can escape his throat. A sharp yelp of pain is ignored as he moans again and tries to catch his breath, panting, sinking down to his knees, pulling her down with him.

Caught deep in post-coital fog, Barnaby is left near immobile and ultimately vulnerable, when he feels her draw her hips back until their bodies are uncoupled. He feels a moment of regret before she kicks him square in the sternum, throwing him back against the steel frame of a weight-training machine.

In pain, he pulls himself up and adjusts his clothing. She's facing away from him, and he can see the welts his fingers have pressed into her backside and thighs, and the wetness trailing down her leg. Swift as she can, Blue Rose pulls her clothes back on, though her legs are still shaky. She never turns to look at him and says nothing as she walks away.

He fumbles for his glasses, and then heads for the showers.

* * *

In the morning, while Barnaby sits at his desk answering fanmail, he hears Kotetsu clomp up behind him. His partner slaps him hard on the back and leans down to get in his face, warm brown eyes narrowed at him, displeased.

“I happened to go back to the training room last night to get something, and I, uh-” Kotetsu's voice trails off.

Barnaby cringes. “Oh. Sorry. I hope you weren't embarrassed,” he says, feeling ice creep into his veins. The bruises on his chest and back throb, and again he feels a pang of discontent. He's given Blue Rose what she wanted, he knows he shouldn't feel bad about it.

“Uh yeah, a little. Bunny, you really shouldn't be messing around with her.”

He cocks an eyebrow at him over his glasses, trying to bury any sign that he's misstepped. “What do you mean? There aren't any rules against fraternization in my contract.” He's read it thoroughly, too, multiple times. Maverick has some very strict stipulations written in, mostly to do with money.

Kotetsu snorts, hands on his hips, looking disgusted. “Rose is only sixteen. If I were her dad, I'd deck you. Hell, I'm still thinking about it.”

He manages not to give into his first instinct and shout a denial - that he didn't know, hadn't thought she was any less than eighteen. He wants to sink into a hole and die, but he maintains his cool facade. “It's none of your business,” he says. “Anyway, it won't happen again.”

"Damn right it won't."


End file.
